


All in, both feet, deep end.

by anisstaranise



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 00:18:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16712845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anisstaranise/pseuds/anisstaranise
Summary: It’s comforting, this life they’ve built together, in this tiny home they share. It’s not perfect, but it’s theirs- which makes it pretty damn close to perfect.But he can’t help but feel that things aren’t going the way he had hoped.





	All in, both feet, deep end.

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt I received ages ago now finally filled.

He lets the door slam, the bang reverberating deafeningly throughout the tiny one bedroom apartment. It’s petty, childish even, but Blaine can’t bring himself to care. It’s another fruitless, frustrating day.

Just as he’s toeing off his shoes and hanging up his bag and jacket, there’s a sound of jiggling keys on the other side of the door. His eyes dart to the clock on the microwave just a little ways behind him; the time glowing in the semi-darkness of the apartment. 5:45pm.

He smiles and a bulk of his earlier frustration melts away, like waves washing away a sandcastle. Sebastian’s home early.

Just then, the door opens. Sebastian breezes in with a smile of his face.

“Hey, babe.” Sebastian flicks on the lights in the apartment as he plants a quick kiss to Blaine’s lips.

Blaine hums in contentment. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah. Left the office early. Had some errands to run,” Sebastian says, holding up a full tote of groceries. He moves deftly around the house as Blaine watches him put his shoes on the rack next to Blaine’s, hang his bag on the wall hooks next to Blaine’s coat and scarf, and drop his keys into the ceramic bowl his brother Cooper’s son had made for them.

He’s still standing by the front door when Sebastian strides to the kitchen and starts putting away the items he had brought home with him. He notes the gorgeous profile of Sebastian’s face as he inspects a box of pasta, and the lean muscles rippling under his shirt as he stretches to put it on the top shelf of their pantry. All the while, Blaine just watches from his spot by the door, breathing everything in.

It’s comforting, this life they’ve built together, in this tiny home they share. It’s not perfect, but it’s _theirs_ \- which makes it pretty damn close to perfect.

But he can’t help but feel that things aren’t going the way he had hoped.

“We lost the band that I was hoping to book,” Blaine says, airing out his frustration of the day as he slowly moves to sit at their kitchen table.

Sebastian stops in the middle of depositing the eggs into the fridge’s egg tray before shrugging and resuming his chore. “Too bad.”

His stomach drops at Sebastian’s nonchalance. He wants to chalk it off to it being a shitty day and that he’s reading too much into things. But this isn’t the first time Sebastian’s reacted this way.

“Too bad?”

Sebastian closes the fridge and turns to face him. “Yeah. You’ll find some other band. A better one, maybe.”

Blaine’s skin crawls with irritation, the first signs of anger simmering low in his blood. _You’ll find some other band_.

You’ll. You will. _You_.

You. Not _we_.

“Maybe I don’t want some other band, Sebastian,” he says, his voice rising slightly. “Maybe- just maybe- I’ve vetted almost a half a dozen bands in the last week and this was the best one. The one most suited for _our_ wedding.”

The simmering anger is boiling now. A wedding involves two people- or has Sebastian forgotten that?

“I get that you’re upset-” Sebastian chimes as he slides into the chair across from Blaine. “- but they’ll be other bands.”

Despite himself, Blaine scoffs. He’s not upset about losing the band, not really. But everything about planning this wedding feels painfully familiar. It seems like he’s the only one enthusiastic about the whole thing... _again_. And it’s stirring up painful, ugly memories not yet forgotten.

He can see it clearly in his mind, like he’s reliving it; sitting in the cafe he used to love before the boy he thought was his forever, the rain pouring around them, the stabbing pain of everything falling apart in a split second.

He hoped he had moved past it all, but some things are just seared into the mind, the heart.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Blaine says, barely a whisper.

He sees the way Sebastian tenses slightly. “What don’t I get, Blaine?”

“You can’t even make a single conscious decision about this wedding.”

Sebastian frowns. “Is this because I said I didn’t care if the napkins were folded like a crane or the Sydney Opera House? Or that I didn’t see what’s so important about what kind of flowers we get for the centrepieces?”

Blaine shakes his head, the laugh leaving his lips sounds bitter and cold to his ears.

“Speaking of flowers- a couple of weeks ago, I practically had to beg for your opinion on what flowers to get for the banquet hall.” Blaine stands, surprised at how much he’s trembling now. “And what did you do? You covered your eyes and stabbed your finger at the catalogue. You couldn’t even spare a minute to _think_ about it.”

He starts pacing; just thinking about Sebastian blindly picking a flower sets his blood boiling again.

“Your finger fell on calla lilies. Fine. That’s cool. I was happy we _at least_ came to a decision about something together. But after the _seven_ different florists in Manhattan that I went to said that they’re all booked up on our wedding weekend, you just shrugged. You shrugged, Sebastian. Like you couldn’t even be bothered.” He’s aware he’s hysterical now. But he can’t seem to calm down. “And what did you say when I told you? ‘Too bad’ _._ That’s what you said, Sebastian.”

“Blaine-”

 “And what about the time I got stuck on a stalled train and couldn’t make the deposit deadline on the boathouse venue for the reception? And we lost it to someone else?” Blaine almost screeches. “What’d you say when I told you about _that_ , Sebastian? Huh? ‘Too bad’. _Too fucking bad_.”

The apartment is still. It’s quiet. And his breathing is laboured. Loud. His heart is racing. Everything hurts.

“This isn’t just a wedding- not to me. This marks the start of our lives together,” he says, winded and on the brink of tears.

Sebastian looks up at him, forehead creased in thought- or worry. Or concern. He can’t tell. “But our lives together started long ago, Blaine. We share every bit of it every day. How are flowers or napkins going to make it any different?”

Blaine sighs. He gets where Sebastian is coming from. A wedding is just that- a wedding. But somehow- in some inexplicable way, it’s not. This step they’re taking- the moment he had proposed, the moment Sebastian had said _Yes_ \- it’s significant. It’s monumental. Maybe their lives won’t be much different with or without a wedding- surely their commitment to each other wouldn’t- but the fact remains that this was something they had _chosen_ to do- _together_.

They _wanted_ this.

Didn’t they? He knows he does.

Does Sebastian? Or, maybe, like before, it’s just him.

A question whirls in the deep recesses of his heart, a question he’s asked before, to someone else- but the circumstances now are eerily similar. Blaine’s not sure he wants to laugh at the cruelty of it all- or to cry.

He dreads the question. But he asks it anyway-

“Sebastian,” he breathes, his voice shaking with the weight of a memory so dark and damaging. “Do you even want to marry me?”

Blaine shudders.

The moment the words roll off his tongue, Sebastian practically flies out of his chair and he’s standing before Blaine now, both hands- strong and steady- cradling his face.

“Oh, Blaine-” Sebastian says, his words warm on his skin. “Of course, _of course_ I want to marry you. More than anything.”

Relief sweeps through him like a tidal wave, and he shakes with it.

“I thought-”

“-that I didn’t want to?”

“You didn’t seem to care about the wedding planning. At all.”

Sebastian sighs, thumbs caressing his cheeks, his green eyes boring into Blaine’s, searching.

A moment passes before Sebastian’s hands fall from his face.

“Sit down,” Sebastian commands, ushering him back to the chair at the kitchen table. “I need to show you something.”

Heart still sore but somewhat giddy with relief, Blaine obliges, settling into his seat as he watches Sebastian walk over to his messenger bag hanging on the wall hook. He digs around in the bag for a moment before finally pulling out a black binder, thick and heavy.

Sebastian sets the binder down on the table in front of him, a nervous smile etched on his face.

“What is this?” he asks as he slowly lifts the cover. What he finds inside takes his breath away.

“This is everything to do with our wedding,” Sebastian answers.

True enough, Blaine finds invoices for the boathouse venue, rental information on chairs and tables, receipt for booking the band Blaine had wanted, order forms for calla lilies from three different florists, cutouts of linen samples for the table cloth, sample menu from the caterers; the works.

“Sebastian-”

“I wanted to surprise you. I wanted you to have the wedding of your dreams.”

Blaine lifts his eyes from the binder to look at the man crouching before him, this wonderful man he’s so lucky to have, to soon spend forever with. 

All this time, Sebastian had merely been feigning nonchalance.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, suddenly feeling foolish for his earlier outburst.

“Hey, no, baby, I’m sorry,” Sebastian says, taking Blaine’s hands into his. “I didn’t mean to go behind your back like that- I didn’t think it- I should’ve-”

Sebastian’s voice trembles. Blaine’s surprised to find tears brimming in his fiancé’s eyes.

“I should’ve known better. I should’ve known it would trigger some... memories-”

Blaine’s breath catches; trust Sebastian to know exactly how he was feeling, what was going through his mind.

“I’m so sorry,” Sebastian breathes.

“Bas-” he whispers before lunging to kiss Sebastian, both men toppling onto the floor- but neither cared.

They kiss and they kiss. And when it ceases, it’s only long enough for Sebastian to say-

“I’m all in, Blaine. With you. I swear.”

\---

The weeks leading up to their wedding pass in a blur of seating arrangements and guest lists, cake tasting and tux fittings.

“I actually like this one,” Sebastian mumbles around a mouthful of cake. “The hint of orange gives it a fresh taste.”

“And this coming from a man who says ‘it’s not dessert if it’s not chocolate’,” Blaine teases.

“What can I say? My years with you have refined my palate.”

Blaine chuckles.

“The orange one it is. Should we order it to be gluten-free?”

“Definitely,” Sebastian answers as he shoves another spoonful of cake into his mouth.

“Slow down with devouring that thing or you might not fit into your tux- which reminds me, we have a fitting appointment tomorrow at 5, after work.”

“Already pencilled in,” Sebastian says, tapping the thick, black binder resting on the table next to his almost empty plate. “But even if I don’t fit that tux, you’d still marry me.”

Blaine smiles and leans in to kiss Sebastian, tasting the sugar and orange on his lips. “In a heartbeat.”

\---

His heart is racing- but it calms as soon as a hand slips into his, their fingers entwined.

“You ready, baby?” Sebastian asks, looking down at their linked hands.

“With you? I'm all in. Always.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, for the very first time-” Cooper’s voice booms beyond the closed doors. “- it is my honour to present to you- Mr. and Mr. Anderson-Smythe.”

The double doors before them are pulled open. They are greeted by cheers and joyous whoops. The spotlight is blinding- but Sebastian’s hand anchors him to the moment. He’s so happy, he feels like he can fly.

They step into the banquet hall of the boathouse together. _Mr. and Mr. Anderson-Smythe_.

Beyond the many smiling faces, he takes in the calla lilies tastefully decorating the walls, the main table. Napkins folded like cranes accompany the place settings. The towering gluten-free orange cake sits upon a round table in the corner. The band starts playing Tom Jones’ _It’s Not Unusual_.

Everything looks perfect. And it’s made even more so because they made these decisions together; napkins and cakes and songs. This is- in every sense of the word- _their_ wedding.

Theirs.

Mr. and Mr. Anderson-Smythe.

\---END.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> Comments welcomed.


End file.
